The Spirit of Fun Chapter 1

by DiAnn



E-mail: scarlet679@hotmail.com

Rating: NC17 - SLASH/ language/ BDSM

Category: Pure Trash /Discipline / m/m Slash

Warning: Mulder / Skinner Slash .

If you don't like this kind of thing, or you are underage, go somewhere else . . . Please! I don't want to hear from you and I don't want to hear from your Mama.

Spoiler: Very little.

Summary: Skinner decides to just take what he wants.

Disclaimer: I do not, nor ever will, own Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Krycek or anyone else from the X-Files. I am borrowing them without permission and am obviously not receiving money for this stuff. We all know who they really belong to, CC, Fox and lots of other people but again, not me.

DiAnn's Discipline Page can be found at Mulder Torture Anonymous: http://discipline.tvheaven.com//diann/diann.html Or the Persuaders Archive : http://www.oocities.org/Area51/Aurora/8903/index.html



Anthony David Shultz, III sat quietly at a back booth, chin resting on his right hand, lazy blue eyes watching the usual Friday night bar crowd with waning interest. This was one of his favorite gay bars but it just didn't hold the interest for him that it once did. In fact, nothing of his jet-setting, club-hopping, BDSM lifestyle held the interest it once had for Tony Shultz. Which should have made his father, A. David Shultz II, CEO and Chairman of the Board of Shultz Financial Network an extremely happy man. But then, there really wasn't much happiness to be found at the Schultz family home these days.

Tony was pretty sure that the source of his family's melancholy lay with him. But he refused to let himself think about that too much. He had his suspicions about what had upset them, but he didn't know how to fix the problem and it wasn't like his parents would even listen to him when he tried to talk to them about how sorry he was for what had happened. And if he thought about it too long at a time, he knew he'd just go crazy.

Better to just take one day at a time and hope it all worked out for the best. That's the way he had always lived his life. One day at a time, come what may, live, love and have a blast of a good time. His father wanted him to get more involved in the family business, but he just couldn't see himself sitting behind an overly-polished desk talking investment and merger all day.

Besides, he loved his life. Or at least he had until a few weeks ago. Give him a big, gorgeous Dom with a firm hand and a few sweet kisses, and he was set to go. But none of his old playmates would even talk to him now, and it had been forever since he'd had a good spanking or even a friendly tumble between the sheets. He missed it all terribly. And it all went back to that one night, that one mistake. A mistake that had broken his family's heart, and destroyed his standing as the best player in the BDSM community.

Tony looked up as someone walked up to his table and stopped. Tony managed to sit up just a little bit straighter as the big, gorgeous hunk of burnin' sex took the seat across from him. Now this threw a whole new light on things. Maybe this piece of walking testosterone could make Tony forget for a little while that he thought he just might have been killed last month.



Skinner huddled in a corner of his dark booth, sipping a beer that had no more taste than the dinner he had consumed before venturing from his apartment, desperate to escape from the life that he himself had chosen. Mr. 'Middle of the Road' Skinner, never taking a risk, playing it safe, always abiding by the rules, no matter how often the rules were changed for him. Walter S. Skinner, the consummate little bureaucrat, yessiree! Skinner snorted in disgust.

He looked around him, he liked gay bars in general, and this one especially. It had a relaxed, tolerant atmosphere about it, the men seeming less out to impress each other than to just relax and enjoy themselves. There were a few couples with their arms thrown around each other's shoulders, their conversation relaxed, punctuated with the easy laughter that comes of knowing each other well.

And this being Friday night, there were more than a few pretty boys strutting their stuff, hoping to either make a few bucks or find the sugar-daddy of their dreams. And then there were the men like Skinner, men who dressed in dark, nondescript clothing, keeping to the shadows lest they be recognized, too paranoid to join in, and too lonely to go home.

Walter looked down into his beer, sighing heavily. Another long weekend stretching ahead with nothing more exciting to look forward to than a few Saturday morning hours spent at the office. A chance to get some work done without constant disruption. Skinner lifted his glass sardonically, a toast to his own bleak existence.

You think you got problems? Let me tell you about problems, sweet-cheeks.

Skinner's head snapped up to look around him, his hand automatically reaching for the weapon under his jacket, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

He can hear me! Tony looked at his companion in awed wonder. Good heavens, I think he can actually hear me.

Skinner relaxed a little, he didn't see anything around that would have produced this response to danger. "Must be losing my cop radar too. Pretty soon there won't be anything but a middle-aged, balding shell of a man sitting here." He mumbled morosely into his beer glass, causing Tony to roll his eyes.

The AD resumed his unhappy musing, only to be diverted a moment later by the raised voice of one of the two men seated at the booth behind him. Must have been their voices that he had heard earlier.

"Whoa boy! Look what just walked in the door, Jack. Now that's a prime piece of property if I ever saw one."

His older, wiser companion chuckled. "You can forget that one, Johnny. He's a straight boy. An old friend of the bartender, I heard they grew up together. He comes in here on a pretty regular basis just to torment the rest of us, if you ask me."

Curiosity sparked, Skinner leaned forward enough to see the bar where Larry the bartender was talking and laughing with a tall, good-looking man in a black leather jacket. Skinner didn't need a second look for his cock to immediately harden in his own well-fitted jeans.

What the hell was Mulder doing in a gay bar? Shit! Of all the people Skinner did not want to see here, Mulder might just be at the top of the list, for a number of reasons. Not the least being the incredible attraction the Assistant Director had always had for his sexy, dark haired, pain-in-the-ass of an agent.

"I refuse to believe it! He's got to be available," Johnny continued forlornly. "Nobody should look that good in jeans and be straight. It just wouldn't be fair." Skinner smiled to himself at the men behind him still in serious conversation about the agent who now sat alone at the bar, sipping on some kind of imported beer, friend Larry having gone off to serve another customer.

Skinner watched as several men came out of the shadows to make a beeline for _his_ Mulder. Feeling relief when each hopeful seducer was turned away with a shake of the head, a few softly spoken words and a devastating smile. He was sure a few of the more persistent among them would try again later just to receive another of those smiles.

Don't worry, they don't stand a chance with that boy, sweet cheeks.. You could have him though, he'd melt for you.

"What the hell!" Skinner looked around, shaking his head in disgust. "Great now I'm hearing voices in my head . . .and talking to myself. It's going to be a fast ride to the bottom now Walter, old boy. And you could _not_ have Mulder. Get that crazy thought out of your head right now."

Skinner watched for over an hour, having to draw back quickly once when Mulder's eyes tracked around the room, seeming for a heart-stopping moment to settle on his booth before moving on. In that instant, Skinner had seen something in the agent's hazel eyes. Certainly a good dose of typical Mulder curiosity, of course, but also what almost looked like longing. Whether is was a suppressed desire to experience gay sex or a deeper hunger to find the kind of closeness some of these men had together, the AD couldn't hazard a guess. He saw his agent turn back around on his stool and shiver, lifting his shoulders defensively as if he could feel someone watching him but unable to locate the source.

Skinner shook his head in amusement. Buy a clue, Agent Mulder, wunderkind investigator of the FBI, the whole damned bar is watching you for heaven's sake.

What are you waiting for, sweet-cheeks? Go get him. You deserve something for everything you've done for him. I know you've lusted after him for years. Go for it!

Walter snorted. "Yeah right, more like everything I've done _to_ him. And besides, the last thing I need is a straight male subordinate bringing me up on sexual harassment charges."

He wouldn't do that. Can't you see how lonely he is? You could make him feel so good he'd be begging you for more.

Skinner looked up startled to see a slender, beautiful, angel-faced blond man sitting across from him.

"Who the hell are you? I didn't see you sit down."

Wide blue eyes blinked at him in surprise. You . . . you can see me?

Skinner gave him his best marine corp glare, "Of course I can see you. What do you think? That an old man like me must be half blind or something?"

Tony held up his hands in mock surrender, a smile full of pearly white teeth enhancing his beauty. "Hey sweet-cheeks, I for one don't see a damn thing wrong with you. Not by a long shot."

"Humph," Skinner snorted, his attention going back to his beer. "Go away. I'm not looking for company tonight."

Sure you are, just not with me. I can help you get tall, dark and thinks-he's-straight over there. That's what you really want isn't it?

"None of your damned business. I told you to go away, and stop calling me sweet-cheeks, it's disgusting."

No problem, daddy-cakes. You can call me Tony. Now come on, let's have some fun. I'm bored. I've been bored for weeks now. Let me help you get the straight boy. I'm telling you, you'll both thank me later.

"Humph!" Skinner growled again, but he didn't tell his blond co-conspirator to go away again either. "I don't like being called daddy-cakes any better."

My, my. You are a big, old grouchy bear aren't you? Tony batted his eyes at the glowering man.

Finally Mulder had a few more words with his friend Larry, paid his tab and headed out the door. Skinner wasn't sure if he felt relief or disappointment. Mulder had certainly improved the scenery while he was here. He looked around to see a few more eyes following Mulder's departure with regret.

The AD waited a few minutes to give his agent plenty of time to leave, finished off his beer, and threw a wad of bills on the table. Somehow the thought of his lonely apartment seemed even more bleak after a night of Mulder-watching.

"I'm going home now," Skinner stared down at his attractive, but not his type, uninvited companion. "Thanks for the advice but like I said, Fox Mulder is off limits to me."

I wouldn't be so sure about that, grouchy bear. The younger man smiled up at the big man innocently.

Walter stepped outside still shaking his head at Tony's last cryptic words. It was a bitterly cold night. The AD took a deep head- clearing breath of the icy night air, starting for his car when he heard a noise from the alley behind the bar. He stopped, standing quietly in the deserted lot and heard it again. The sounds of a scuffle. Shit! What a night he was having. Walter Skinner did not want to be recognized at a gay bar, but he couldn't very well let some poor drunken fool be mugged in an alley either.

Drawing his weapon, Skinner carefully made his way to the corner of the building, carefully leaning around to see just what was going on. His heart nearly stopped. Two big men had Mulder pinned up against the building. The agent was already bleeding from a cut over his eye, and one of his attackers was in the act of bringing a ham-sized fist down again.

Mulder managed to turn his head just at the moment of impact, causing the blow to thankfully land on his temple instead of his nose, but also causing his head to bounce off the wall behind him with a sickening crack. The agent groaned once, his knees buckling as he went limp in his assailant's hands.

"Shit Ray, you didn't need ta' kill him. I thought we was gonna' have some fun first. He's a mighty pretty boy and I want a piece of him real bad. Let's take him back to our place so we can make this last a good long time."

"The little shit hit me! No body hits Ray Webber and gets away with it. Now hold him up while I get his pants down. He owes me for that punch in the mouth and I plan to make sure he pays but good."

"Not a good idea boys."

The men froze as they heard the distinct sound of a trigger cocking in the darkness. The man holding Mulder against the building started to turn but stopped abruptly at the newcomer's next words.

"You let him fall in that filth and I'm going to make sure you spend the rest of your life pissing in a bag, son."

Skinner grimaced as the man overreacted, forcing Mulder's boneless body up against the building, the back of the agent's head yet again making solid contact with the unyielding bricks..

"This ain't none of your business, mister." It seemed that Ray had finally found his voice. "We saw this pretty boy first, he's been asking for this all night."

Skinner smiled dangerously as he carefully lowered his gun to point at Ray's crotch. "When you're wrong, boy, you don't mess around, now do you? First of all he is most definitely my business, you didn't see him first, not by a long shot, and I didn't notice him asking you for a damned thing tonight. So unless you want to test my dwindling patience just a little further, I suggest you pick him up and bring him out here into the light. And I'd be real careful if I were you, seeing him hurt anymore would tend to make me real mad at this point."

Ray started to open his mouth again but was stopping by a vicious elbow to his ribs delivered by his accomplice. "Just shut up for once, Ray. Help me get him out there and maybe we can just go home in one piece."

"You afraid of that old man, Joey? We can take him, no problem."

"Ray, have you completely lost your mind? The guy has a gun and quite frankly he scares the shit out of me. Now pick up the pretty boy's feet and let's go."

Casting one more belligerent glare in Skinner's direction, Ray picked up Mulder's feet and the two men carefully moved him from the alley.

"My car's over there. Put him in the backseat, real easy like. I can feel my finger getting a little itchy on this trigger."

Ray was still trying to maintain an image of bravo, but Joey believed everything the big, hard-eyed man said. He could see death in those brown eyes and he wanted no part of it.

Once Mulder was safely in the car, Skinner turned with a quick pivot to smash the butt of his gun into Ray's nose. The big man went down on the asphalt, holding his face, screaming in pain. Before the hapless Joey had a chance to react, the big AD had grabbed his wrist, slamming the surprised man's hand down on the hood of the car, the gun butt again coming into play as three of Joey's fingers snapped under the onslaught of heavy metal.

Joey sunk to his knees, his hand pressed tightly to his chest, sobbing in pain. "Why'd you have to go and hurt us?"

"You hurt him."

Skinner got in his car and drove toward Crystal City, his rescued prize still out cold in the back seat.

That was real good, bear. I wish someone had been around when I needed . . .

Skinner slammed on the brakes so quickly that the blond man sitting beside him in the front seat had to throw out his hands to catch himself on the dash. The AD cringed as he heard the unmistakable thud of a body rolling off the backseat.

"Shit! What the hell are you doing in my car?"

He looked over to see his passenger just staring at him, big fat tears streaming down his beautiful face. What you did . . . in that alley, it made me remember. I've been trying to forget what happened but it's all came back now. They killed me.

"I beg your pardon?" Skinner said, wondering how long it would take to get a psychiatric unit to the scene and how many additional bruises he had just put on Mulder.

I'm not sure who, but now I know it's true. The ghost looked over at Skinner sadly. I really am dead..

The last thing Walter Skinner remembered of that drive home, was Tony reaching out his arms toward him, seeking comfort he supposed. From that moment on, his life took on a surreal quality that in his later years seemed more like a dream than an event that had changed his life forever.

Tony felt warm and secure from his position deep inside Walter Skinner. A less scrupulous spirit would have fought for full possession, but Tony had the heart of a submissive. He didn't really desire to take over the body he now co-inhabited, but he certainly intended to make a few changes, and force the much too solemn AD to have a little fun for a change.

This new arrangement would also give Tony the opportunity to lay low for a little while, decide what dead boys were supposed to do next. Plus, he really wanted to get a good close look, make that an exceedingly close look, at the body of that cute guy in the back seat. Well, make that the back floor. This was going to be so much fun. He hadn't seduced a straight boy in ages.



Crystal City
Skinner's Apartment Building

Skinner smiled to himself as he reached into the back of his car, plucking his still unconscious agent off the floor. He gently eased him over one massive shoulder, relieved but also concerned that the agent seemed so light. The boy obviously needed someone to take care of him, make sure he ate right and didn't drive himself into the ground. And Skinner knew just the man for the job.

He hoped Mulder didn't need a hospital. It would be so much better for both of their careers if no police report of this incident was ever filed. Not that he really cared all the much about his career at the moment, but he needed to protect Mulder's position in the bureau.

His doorman raised one eyebrow as one of his favorite tenants carried a young man through the door.

"Problem Mr. Skinner? Do you need some help?"

Skinner pasted a friendly smile on his face. "No, I've got him. Just a friend from work, Pete. Had a little too much to drink, fell down and hit his head. A little bandage and a good nights sleep should take care of it, I think."

Pete smiled. "I've been there a few times myself, Mr. Skinner. Give him some tomato juice and fish oil, works every time. Make a new man out of him."

"Thanks for the advice Pete, but I kind of liked the man he was before. Actually, that sounds like it might kill him."

"He'll wish he was dead anyway."

Skinner nodded his head at Pete's chuckle. He could just see himself trying to force tomato juice and fish oil down Mulder's throat. He shifted his burden on his shoulder, deciding maybe Mulder wasn't as lightweight as he had originally thought. He needed to get him upstairs, the man was getting damned heavy.

He almost dropped Mulder as he fumbled with his key. He was glad it was so late, he would hate to have to explain this to the neighbors. He could just hear good old Mrs. Pitsburo now.

"Oh my Beatrice, you know that strange man in apartment 342, the quiet, beady-eyed one who keeps such odd hours. Well, I saw him bringing home an unconscious street-urchin in the middle of the night. The good Lord only knows what he did to that poor boy in there all weekend long."

Skinner chuckled to himself as he lay his street-urchin down on his bed. No use pretending he wasn't going to sleep with Mulder tonight. For once in his life, Walter Skinner felt totally liberated. He was a new man and he planned to live his life to the fullest, starting with the tasty treat now lying on his bed.

Of course in his present condition, all Mulder would be doing was sleeping but still Skinner planned to have that warm body next to his all night long. Actually, all weekend long. Maybe forever. The agent owed him for saving his virtue, not to mention his life.

Skinner pushed a blood soaked lock of hair off the man's forehead, carefully examining the cut he found there. "I've let you get away with murder all these years and now it's payback time, my nosey little Fox. I think you go to that bar for more than overpriced beer or old friends. I think you're a little too curious for you own good."

Skinner gently ran his hands through the thick hair. Three swollen lumps had formed on various parts of the agent's head but the skin was not broken. He retrieved a first aid kit from the bathroom and proceeded to patch up his pilfered house guest.



Crystal City Apartment
8 Hours Later

Mulder came slowly back to awareness, positive that once he was able to sit up, the top of his head would still be lying on the ground behind him. He lay as quietly as possible, trying desperately to remember what had happened and where he was at the moment.

The alley! He had been grabbed from behind and pulled into the alley behind Larry's bar. He raised one hand to gingerly feel his head. His fingers encountered a bandage. So someone had rescued him or at least found him in time to get him to a hospital for treatment. But then this didn't smell like a hospital. It smelled nice, kind of clean and spicy. The familiar smell played around the edges of his mind. He knew that smell, but his head just hurt too much at the moment to come up with the source.

He risked opening his eyes, then slammed them shut immediately when they were met by an onslaught of bright sunlight. He took a few deep breaths and tried again, just the merest slit this time. He was in a bedroom. A nice bedroom, with cream colored walls and soft clean sheets under his naked body.

Deciding he needed to make a more thorough inspection of his new environment, but knowing the source of the light lay in the window to his left, he chose to turn his head to the right only to encounter a pair of smiling brown eyes.

"Shit!" Mulder tried to scramble back from that face so close to his own, but realized that a big, muscular arm was wrapped tightly around his waist holding him securely to the bed.

"Si . . .sir?" Silently berating himself for the squeak in his voice.

"Mulder." The big AD smiled down at him, which only tended to raise the agent's horror level another few degrees.

"Wh . . .wh. . . .wh . . ."

"What do you want to know, Mulder? What happened to you? Why you're in my bed? What plans I have for you?"

"Yes!"

Skinner flicked that stubborn lock of hair off Mulder's forehead causing the agent's eyes to open even further. "Tell you what," Skinner gave him that frightening smile again. "I'll go get you some aspirin for your head, then I'll answer all your questions. How would that be?"

Mulder managed a weak nod, then watched in awe as his completely naked boss hopped up out of bed and started for the door. "Si . . .sir?"

Skinner turned back around giving his agent another of his disconcerting grins.

"Are you a clone, sir?"

The AD threw back his head and laughed, missing his agent's startled flinch at the unfamiliar sound. "No Mulder, you needn't worry about that, I'm the same man you've known for the past six years."

"I'm not so sure about that, sir." Mulder whispered when his boss was safely out of earshot. Deciding the best course of action would be to run like hell, Mulder put both hands on his aching head and slowly rose to a sitting position. When the room finally stopped spinning, he located his jeans and struggled into them. He managed to get them up over his hips before his stomach did a slow roll and tumble that sent him staggering for the bathroom.

Skinner heard the sound of retching all the way in the kitchen, and hurried back to care for his charge. He was pleased to find that Mulder had the foresight to make it to the bathroom in time, but not so pleased to see the agent had tried to dress. When his errant patient was finished and lay weakly on the side of the porcelain bowl, Skinner gently wiped his face with a wet cloth, helped him rinse his mouth, then scooped him up in his arms to deposit him back on the bed.

Mulder groaned miserably and blushed furiously as he felt his jeans being stripped from his body.

"Why are you doing this to me, sir?"

"You're hurt. I've decided you need someone to take care of you, Mulder." He ignored the stunned look on the younger man's face, instead propping him up on several pillows as he handed him a piece of dry toast and a cup of hot, heavily sweetened tea.

Mulder just sat there staring at the delicate china cup he now held in his hands. He wondered if he had fallen down a rabbit hole while he was in that alley. Or maybe it was a worn hole, or a black hole, or . . .

Skinner regained his attention immediately when he let loose with another of his unprecedented laughs. "Eat up, Mulder and then I promise to answer any question you want to ask me. But let me reassure you first that I am not part of a shadow-government cloning experiment, nor have you slipped into an alternate universe, and you are not lying in a ditch somewhere lost in a pre-death, fever dream of some kind. Now drink you tea, sugar boy, and that's an order."

"Sug . . . sug . . .sugar?"

"I already put sugar in there, Mulder. Drink up."

Skinner watched like a hawk until his dazed agent had drank almost all of the tea and eaten half the toast. "Okay, I would have preferred that you eat all the toast but I'll make sure you eat a good lunch. Now here's what we're going to do. You get to ask me one question, any question you want. And I'll answer it honestly and to the fullest extent of my abilities. Then it's my turn. Meaning I get to ask you a question, and you have to answer honestly. Agreed?"

Mulder sat staring at the man for a moment, then slowly nodded his head.

"Good, now what's your first question?"

"Why did you bring me here?"

"You were attacked in an alley, sustaining a head injury. I saved your ass and brought it back here so I could properly care for you. Now my turn. What were you doing in gay bar last night?"

Mulder nearly choked on his last swallow of tea. Skinner reached forward, gently slapping him on the back until his sputtering had stopped. "Answer, Mulder?"

"I . . . I go there sometimes. My best friend from the Vineyard works there. I like to have a beer or two and talk to him. Can I go home now?"

"No. Now my turn. Have you . . ."

"Hey! That wasn't my question!"

"It was still a question, Mulder. Now it's my turn. Have you ever had sex with another man?"

The AD thought his agent's eyes might fall out of his head. "Sir, I don't think that's an appropriate question for you to ask me. It's certainly . . ."

"Save the long dissertation on bureau protocol, Mulder, and just answer the question as agreed. Have you ever had sex with a man before?"

"No." Skinner was further intrigued as his little virgin blushed furiously and dropped his eyes to the cup he still held in his hands.

"Your turn, Mulder. Do you have a question for me?"

"Uh . . .uh . . .I, uh . . .that is . . ."

"That's all right, agent. You can answer a couple more for me while you're thinking about your next inquiry. Have you ever thought about it?"

"About it, sir?" Mulder looked up, giving his boss one of those long, slow blinks that meant the man had been thrown off balance and was desperately trying to pull himself together.

"Don't play dumb, Agent Mulder. It hardly suits you. Now, tell me have you ever fantasized about what it might be like to have sex with another man?"

Mulder swallowed hard, opened his mouth, then swiftly closed it again, never taking his eyes off Skinner's face.

"I asked you a question, Agent Mulder!"

"Yes, sir! I mean . . . uh, yes I've thought about it. I think if they were honest, most men would have to admit to a kind of curiosity about . . ."

"I don't need a lecture in male psychology 101, sugar boy." He smiled when he saw Mulder flinch at the nickname. "Have you ever fantasized about me?"

Mulder's groaned and closed his eyes, his face flushing a bright crimson.

Skinner chuckled. "Well I guess that answers that question. Thank you, that's very flattering. Now, have you thought of a question for me yet?"

"Yes sir. What do you plan to do to me?"

"That's an excellent question, Fox. I assume you don't mind if I call you Fox. I know you don't like it but I think it fits you quite well. I've always been fond of that name." Skinner babbled on while Mulder just stared at him in stunned silence. "As to your question. I plan to keep you."

"Wh . . . what? Keep me sir? Keep me where? For how long?"

Skinner turned away as if collecting his thoughts. When he turned back, Mulder saw a strange expression on his supervisor's usually stern face.

"I couldn't sleep last night, Mulder. For one thing I was worried about your head, I didn't think you had a concussion, but head injuries can be tricky, so I lay there beside you and watched you sleep. And I did some thinking, a lot of thinking actually."

"About what sir?"

"About my life. I'm almost fifty years old and I realized last night that I haven't done the things I really wanted to do. I haven't experienced life at its fullest, or even attempted to fulfill my sexual fantasies, or taken any real risks at all for that matter. My life is almost over Fox, if I don't grab hold of it now, it _will_ all be over. But all that changes now. I made a decision last night. There's something I want and I've decided to just reach out and grab it and bedamned the consequences."

Mulder cleared his throat nervously. "What is it you want sir, red sports car, vacation in southern Spain, leggy blond?"

"Damned good guess, Fox! Actually, it's a leggy brunette. You."

"What? You can't . . . "

Skinner held up a placating hand. "Just hear me out, sugar boy. I've been attracted to you for years. I want you. I saved your life last night and in some cultures that makes your life mine. But I'm a reasonable man, I'll only take six months. During that time, you will belong to me."

"But . . ."

"If after six months you want to leave, you'll be free to go and everything will return to the way it was last week."

"And if I refuse?"

"No more X-Files cases. Those 302's will just disappear before they ever make it back down to your desk. You'll spend those six months investigating 'normal' cases, Mulder."

"That's blackmail!"

"Yep! It's the new me. What do you think? I've followed the rules all my life and look where it's gotten me. Well, no more. From now on Walter Skinner takes what he wants from life. And that," Skinner gave Mulder another scary smile and pointed a big blunt finger at the agent's naked chest, "would be YOU."

"Why me?"

Skinner eyed his agent carefully, he was beginning a look a little green around the edges again. The AD wondered if he should get him back over that bathroom stool before it was too late.

"Because, sugar boy . . ."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that, sir."

"Hum, " Skinner looked to be considering it. "No, sorry I like it. Now as I was saying sugar boy, there are several reasons why it's you. First of course is my sexual attraction to you. You're a very beautiful man, Mulder. You're also witty, intelligent and have an unique sense of humor. I like that. But you're also curious. I know you've been wondering about sex with another man and I also know you're as lonely as I am. And last but not least, you're on a one way road to self destruction and I know exactly how to put you back on track."

Mulder no longer looked stunned, now he looked incensed. "I don't need you to put me 'back on track'. I'm doing just fine. My life is just fine. I don't need a daddy."

"Sure you do. It's what you've always needed. I've been aware of that for years but I just couldn't bring myself to go against bureau policy to do what I knew needed to be done."

"And what exactly is that, sir?"

"It's really very simple, Fox. I'm going hold you when you think you're all alone in the world. I'm going to show you what it feels like to be made love to by someone who puts your happiness first, and when you go off on one of your tangents, I'm going to put you over my knee and turn that gorgeous bottom of yours the most amazing shade of red you'll ever see."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Of course I would. I'm not particularly happy about you going in that bar last night, teasing those men like that . . ."

"I wasn't teasing anybody!"

"Yes you were, and to make matters worse, you were doing it without your weapon or your ID. I think I'm perfectly within my rights to give you a good thrashing for that little escapade. I had planned to wait until tomorrow but my timetable can be pushed up, if that's what you really want."

"No. No, I think I'll just go back to sleep for a while." Mulder huddled back down into the blankets, turning over on his stomach and burying his face in the pillow. Maybe when he came out again this would have all been just a very bad dream.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom again before your nap?"

"No sir. And if I do I'll just . . . " Mulder stopped in mid-sentence as a fur-lined handcuff was placed around his left wrist, the other side quickly attached to the bed post.

"Hey!"

"Better get used to bondage, Fox. I expect it to take some time before you're fully trained, and I don't plan to go chasing you all over the country so I can drag you back here."

Skinner smiled down at his wide-eyed and completely speechless captive. "Now, that's better all ready. I'm going to go over to your apartment to pick up your things. I shouldn't be gone too long, but I've hired someone to come in and stay with you while I'm gone."

"I'm really not sick enough for nurse, sir. I'm sure that if you just take off this cuff, I'll be fine until you get back."

"Oh no, Fox, it isn't a nurse that's coming. I hired a service that provides experienced Doms to keep subs in line while their Masters have to be away. We'll be needing them for times I have to be out of town. I thought it would be a good idea to give them a try for an afternoon first."

"Sir! How do you even know about that sort of thing?"

Skinner looked perplexed for a moment. "You know, I'm really not sure." He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Doesn't matter, it's still a damned good service."

Mulder groaned and buried his head back in his pillow. A short time later he heard the doorbell.

"Come now, Fox. I know you aren't really asleep." Mulder peeked out of his hiding place to see a big, strapping woman who looked more like someone's aging mother than a Dominatrix for hire.

She set down on the side of the bed., her hand resting on his blanket covered back. "My name is Mrs. Parsons and I know you aren't feeling well today so we'll try to make this afternoon as pleasant for you as possible. That will, of course, be up to you. First of all, I need you to raise up on your knees."

Mulder gave her a wide-eyed blink, then seeing the deadly look in her eye, slowly pulled his knees up toward his chest.

"That's very good, dear." She quickly pulled several large pillows from the bed, shoving them under Mulder's raised hips. She then gently pushed him back down so he was again lying on his stomach but this time with his bottom pointing high in the air. She carefully rearranged the blanket, covering him but making sure to leave his elevated bottom completely exposed. "I make it a hard and fast rule to keep all my naughty, little sub charges bare bottomed while they're under my care. I find that keeps their minds off mischief and on the part of their body that will suffer most if they don't behave themselves."

"Please ma'am, I'm being held here against my will. I need you to call . . . Ouch!" Mulder yelped as a white hot spot of pain materialized on his right buttock.

Mrs. Parsons brandished a huge wooden cooking spoon right under his nose. "You listen to me, young man, your loving and concerned Master told me that you were due for a nap. I'm going to give you six strokes of my hard wooden spoon on your bare bottom, and then I want you sound asleep in fifteen minutes or it's six more. Do you understand me?"

"You're not hitting me with that thing! I'm a federal agent and I know my rights. If you . . . Ah-h-h-h! Oh! Ouch! Oh!" The back of the dreaded spoon had made a lightening-quick visit to the very top of each of his unprotected thighs. Mulder couldn't remember ever feeling anything that stung as much as that spoon.

"That just earned you those four extra, boy. Do you have anything else you want to back-talk to me?"

"No, ma'am."

"I thought not. Now five more smacks on this naughty bottom, then you take your nap. And no more nonsense, Fox."

The spoon exploded with blistering force in the very center of his left cheek. Mulder couldn't help the whimper that escaped from his tightly closed lips. He had hardly had time to process that biting pain before a third smack resounded low on his right cheek, followed immediately by one in the exact same spot on his left. He yelped loudly, his legs kicking out in reflex to the pain in his bottom. Mulder felt hot tears run down his cheeks as the hated spoon crashed down once more, first right then left, the blows overlapping on previously tortured flesh.

Mrs. Parsons patted the shaking shoulders of the silently sobbing man. "All finished, Fox. Your bottom is such a pretty shade of red, your Master will be very pleased. But I must warn you, headache or not, if you don't take your nap as ordered, your Mr. Skinner will come back to find this pretty backside glowing like you've spend all afternoon sitting on a hot stove. You don't want that, now do you?"

Mulder shook his head adamantly, "No, ma'am!"

Three hours later Walter Skinner returned followed by a panel truck and two moving men. As the men transferred Mulder's possessions from the truck to his new home, Mrs. Parson's and her employers stepped quietly into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Skinner looked down fondly on a sleeping Mulder, his bared pink bottom still pointing to the ceiling. "I see he gave you a little trouble."

"Not really. It's always necessary to establish authority early. Once he knew who was in charge, he was as good as an angel."

Skinner chuckled, "He certainly looks like one now."

"They all do when they're asleep. He's a very stubborn young man, Mr. Skinner. You have your work cut out for you, but I think you'll be very pleased with what will happen with a lot of discipline and an equal amount of love. He's very sensitive and really quite beautiful."

Skinner nodded, smiling proudly.



Mulder was awakened to the feel of his body being repositioned on the bed. He found himself gently but efficiently flipped on to his back as his captor attached his wrists to the headboard once more. By the time he had regained full consciousness, his ankles were cuffed to the other two corners, he was now spread-eagle and helpless.

"Please sir, you have to let me go now. I won't say a word about this to anyone. We'll get you some help, sir. I can help you."

"Oh you're right about that, sweet boy. You're all the help I'll ever need. And stop speaking to me like I'm some deranged alien abductee that you can talk down. This isn't a hostage negotiation, Fox."

"Feels like one." Mulder mumbled then yelped as Skinner slapped the inside of his thigh, just enough to make it tingle.

He eyed the man who, until a few hours ago, Mulder had felt certain that, if he did not completely understand, he at least knew well enough to accurately predict his behavior under most circumstances. The profiler inside him was going into overdrive trying to come up with some answers to this bizarre situation.

"Sir, did you hit your head recently? Do you have any unexplained surgical scars? Have you noticed any missing time?"

Skinner sighed as he sat down on the bed beside his new love and gently rearranged that lock of stubborn hair out of his eyes once more. "Fox my sweet, surly you've been aware of how I've felt about you for the past several years?"

"Exasperated? Frustrated? Homicidal?"

Skinner let out another of those rusty laughs of his. Mulder wasn't sure he would ever get used to that singularly peculiar sound. "Oh come now, you're the bureau's top investigator and you didn't know I was in love with you? I find that hard to believe."

"In love?" Mulder squeaked. "I didn't even think you liked me!"

"Oh I like you all right." Skinner ran a big warm hand down Mulder's bare chest causing a shudder to shoot through the younger man's naked body. "I like you a lot."

"Sir, you have to stop now. You're my boss. The Consortium will find out. You were once a marine for heaven's sake!"

The gentle hand continued it's erotic journey over the rapidly heating flesh. Walter could feel his agent's breath begin to quicken as he made himself acquainted with every hollow, slope and hillock on the beautiful man's well-toned chest.

"So sweet boy, your only objections to what I'm doing to your body lie in the fact that you work for me, we could get caught and I was once in the military. What about the fact that I'm a man, Fox? Doesn't that worry you." He lowered his head, taking one hardened little nipple into his hot mouth. Thrilled at the sharp gasp that escaped the other man's lips. "Or does it just turn you on? Am I turning you on, Fox?"

"I . . . I . . ."

Skinner left a trail of kisses across the flushed chest as he moved to take the other sorely neglected nipple into his sucking mouth. This time he was rewarded not only with a gasp but an arch of the back as well. The agent pushing his chest up to make more contact with the all consuming mouth that was working on him so expertly.

Skinner moved lower, showering the body under him with kisses and delicious, long, wet trails of his tongue. He stopped just short of Mulder's rock-hard cock. Heard the hiss of disappointment as he moved to lick the insides of the long muscular thighs.

"My poor darling boy, you have no idea what you really want now do you? But I know. I know exactly what you are and what you need." Soft sweet kisses and hot, wet licks all along those tender thighs. "And I'm going to give it to you. I'm going to give it all to you. I'm going to give you love," -kiss-lick-kiss- "and security," -kiss-lick-kiss- "and direction," -kiss-lick-kiss- "and discipline. Everything you've ever wanted and needed, sweet boy."

Skinner moved up, without warning, enveloping Mulder's straining cock in his mouth, and as predicted Mulder dissolved into a puddle of pure sensation. Of course, being Mulder he did it with a lot of screaming and thrashing but it was a total melt-down none the less. Skinner loved every minute of it.

The big AD left his sated., sleeping new lover in a mindless heap on the bed, covering his nude body with the soft, warm blankets. Wouldn't do for his new lover to get a chill. Skinner made his way down to the front room, sinking into his comfortable couch with a self-satisfied and contented smile on his face.

Suddenly he felt a tingle that started at his toes and moved quickly up his entire body. He gasped, sure his recent exertion had given him a heart attack. The sensation left as quickly as it had come. Skinner carefully opened his eyes, then nearly jumped out of his skin at he saw that a young man was now sprawled in the chair in front of him.

"I told you he's melt for you."

Skinner's mouth dropped open as he found himself staring into the incredibly handsome face of the boy from the bar. The man was sprawled in Skinner's favorite chair, looking for all the world like he belonged there.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Skinner growled, starting to rise from his couch.

"Think about it, grouchy bear. What do you remember?"

Skinner's face took on a look of extreme concentration as he dropped back down, continuing to stare at his uninvited guest. Suddenly his eyes got wide and his head dropped to his chest. "Oh-h-h- No-o-o, what have I done?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh stop being so dramatic, grouchy bear. What you've done is make one pretty, little sub boy face up to his nature and come under your hands like he's never come before. A fine day's work if you ask me."

"You're crazy. He's going to kill me. Or at least report me to OPR."

"If you think that, then you didn't get a good look at his face when you were handing out that mind-altering blow job. He'd never experienced anything like that in his life."

"How did you do this to me. Drugs? Mind control? Shit, Mulder tried to tell me about that Modell guy but I refused to listen . . . no wait, I know what it is! I'm drunk and you're my pink elephant! Or maybe I've been in a horrible accident and I'm in a coma." His eyes snapped up to pin Tony's, "Am I dead and this is hell?"

"Sheesh bear, get a grip. You aren't dead, but I'm pretty sure I am." Tony's bottom lip came out in an adorable pout, which went totally unappreciated by his current companion.

Skinner groaned and put his head back in his hands. "Are you still spouting that crap? If you think for one minute that I'm going to believe that you're a ghost . . .a con-man maybe, and certainly some sort of burglar the way you keep slipping in and out of places. But a ghost, no way! You'd be better off talking to that man in there if you want someone to buy that bullshit story."

"But I like to talk to you, grouchy bear," Tony got up, looking around the room, ignoring his skeptical host. "But since you don't want my help, I guess you'll just have to let him go. Of course now that he's caught a clue, well a small one anyway, he'll be easy pickin's for the next big, mean Dom who takes a fancy to him."

Skinner raised his head, glaring at the impudent blond man. "What do you mean by that?"

"Come on!" Tony sat back down, throwing one leg over the arm of the chair. "He's a bottom. Always was. Always will be. You know that, you've known it for years. Now he knows it too. Or at least he suspects it. The boy seems to be a little slow on the uptake, if you ask me."

"Are you kidding? He's one of the most brilliant men I've ever known."

"Brilliant doesn't make you smart. It makes you interesting, and witty and a whole lot of other wonderful things but it doesn't give you even one tiny little look into your own heart. Mulder has tasted his own heart now, he'll want more."

"Well he'll just have to forget that idea! I'll see that he does! And you have to get out of my apartment. I have work to do this afternoon."

"Yes you do, grouchy bear." And Tony reached out for Skinner once again.



Mulder walked hesitantly into the kitchen just as Skinner was putting lunch on the table. He looked wonderfully disheveled, hair sticking up all over his head, eyes heavy with sleep. Skinner thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful. The agent had found a pair of Skinner's sweat pants and they looked like nothing more than harem pants on the thinner man, hanging low on those sexy hips despite the draw-string having been pulled tightly together.

"I thought I heard you talking to someone, sir."

"Uh . . .no, Fox. There's no one here but you and me."

"You didn't cuff me to the bed, so I thought you wouldn't mind if I came in here with you."

"And you hoped you'd find someone here to help you escape my clutches?" Skinner smiled indulgently. "Of course I don't mind that you came in here, sweetheart. Why don't you sit down and have some lunch?"

"I don't really care for tuna salad, sir. But it doesn't matter, I'm not hungry anyway. I think we should talk . . . Hey!" Mulder bounded across the floor to stand in front of the tank that now bubbled happily away in one corner of Skinner's apartment. "You kidnapped my fish, too!"

Skinner chuckled at his astonished houseguest. "Yeah, but they survived the trauma. I think they've already sold the rights to their story to the National Inquirer."

Mulder turned slowly to stare at his boss, dazed looked firmly back in place on his face. "Did you just make a joke, sir?"

"Yes," that scary smile appeared on his boss' face again. "I believe I did. See how good you are for me? Now come over here and eat your lunch. From now on, it's three good meals a day. No more living on coffee and sunflower seeds for you."

Mulder brought out his most placating tone of voice. "Why don't we call Scully, sir? She'll be able to figure out what's happened to you."

"I told you to stop psychoanalyzing me, Fox. And I don't need Scully's help to know that what's happened to me may well be the best thing that's _ever_ happened to me in my entire life."

Suddenly Skinner's head twisted to his left, "I know exactly what I'm doing, stop worrying about it. Just get out of here and leave me alone!"

He turned back to see Mulder wearing an expression of deep concern. "I can be out of your hair in just a few minutes, sir. Uh, could I have my clothes back first?"

"I wasn't talking to you, Fox. It's not you I want to leave."

Now Mulder really looked worried, "Then who were you talking to, sir?"

"No one important, rest assured. You don't have to worry about it, sweetheart. Just sit down and eat your lunch. We have a lot to do this afternoon."

"With all due respect sir, we really need to talk about getting you some professional help." Mulder sat down in the chair, hoping it would help placate the obviously disturbed man.

Skinner just got up and silently left the room. When he returned Mulder hadn't moved a muscle, still sat staring at the empty doorway that his boss had so abruptly exited.

The AD sat back down in his chair, then laid an item on the table in front of him, Mulder's own flat-backed hairbrush. He waited until the surprised hazel eyes climbed back up to meet his own.

"Eat, Fox. I'm giving you thirty minutes. For every minute after that you get one smack with the back of this brush on the back of your legs. Now I suggest you eat."

"Yes sir." Mulder broke off a corner of his sandwich and put it in his mouth, eyes never leaving Skinner's face.

"How's the head, baby?"

"It's . . .it's fine, sir. Hardly any headache at all. I think all that sleep helped. Uh sir, I was wondering . . . baby, sir?"

"Yes Fox. My baby, my love, my life for at least the next six months. Longer if I have my way. Get used to it."

"Yes, sir." Mulder went back to picking at his food, a serious frown monopolizing his handsome face.

"Mulder," Skinner leaned across the table staring deeply into wide, hazel eyes. "You aren't cuffed anymore, you're sitting here at my table, dressed to a certain degree. I know you're a trained agent, a damned good one, and a tough little shit to boot. Why haven't you tried to muscle you way out of here?"

Mulder fiddled with the crust of his sandwich, pulling off little pieces and laying them on the side of the plate. "You need me. You're in trouble and I have to help you."

"Well, you got part of that right. I do need you, always have. But I'm not in trouble, Mulder. In fact, I haven't felt this good in years."

"This isn't normal, sir."

"It isn't normal to want to take care of you? To want to take you to my bed and hear you scream my name? It isn't normal to love you? Tell me Agent Mulder, just what isn't normal?"

"Sir, think about it. You're holding one of your own agents prisoner in your home. You . . .you . . ." Mulder lowered his voice to a whisper as he leaned across the table. "You . . ."

"Gave you a blow job. Is that what you're trying to say, sugar boy?"

Mulder let his head drop into his hands, "Shit! Yes, that's what I'm trying to say. We've worked together for six years and suddenly you decide to . . .to. . . oh shit! That wasn't normal!"

"You're absolutely right, Fox." He gave Mulder another of those shark-tooth smiles as the look of relief on the younger man's face.

"It wasn't normal . . .it was glorious. Extraordinary! Mind-blowing! And I think you felt the same way about it. Didn't you enjoy it, sweetheart?"

Mulder felt the last shreds of his sanity slipping. "Of course I enjoyed it! How could I not enjoy it? That's not the point! The point is . . ."

"The point it, it's now 12:30 and you didn't finish your lunch. But I'm going to be lenient with you this first time." Skinner picked up the hairbrush. "Let go in the living room to take care of this. We might as well address your carelessness last night while we're at it."

Skinner leaned his head to the left again, "Oh yes I am! I _do_ have control! He'll learn his lesson, just shut up and let me handle this!"

Mulder had lost his power of speech again, his eyes wide, dazed and confused. Skinner tousled his hair, then clamped a big hand around his upper arm and pulled him into the front room.

It all happened so quickly and Mulder was so concerned about Skinner's new practice of muttering to himself, that he forgot to struggle until he found himself face down over his boss' lap.

"Sir please, what are you doing? This has gone way too far, sir, let me up and we can talk about it. I know you're going to regret this later."

Skinner placed one hand on the waistband of the sweat pants and pulled, leaving the gorgeous bottom over her lap bare and ready for a good tanning. "Why would I regret it, Fox? I've wanted to do this for years. I don't know how many times I sat across the desk from you while you babbled on about some crazy idea you'd come up with and I just itched to do this very thing."

"You always looked like you were interested in what I was saying." Mulder looked over his shoulder at his captor, bottom lip out in a full-fledged pout. He cringed when he got another predatory smile and a hair tousle.

"Oh I was interested Fox. Just not always in what you were saying. Now lets get on with this. First two hairbrush smacks for not eating. Trust me on this, the next time I threaten you with this punishment you won't be so quick to ignore me. The back of a hairbrush packs quite a sting."

Mulder opened his mouth for yet another attempt at negotiate a settlement and get Skinner to a hospital, when the hairbrush exploded against the top of his right thigh.

Mulder yelped as the pain radiated from his thigh to travel all the way down his leg, a leg that was involuntary kicking for all it was worth.

"Was I right about the sting, sweetheart?"

"Shit! Yes!"

"My guess is that your thighs are going to come to know this hairbrush very intimately. It's an easy enough way to discipline you at work. Not much stripping needed to get to a bare thigh."

"You . . .you plan to do this to me while we're at work?"

"I don't really see any way around it, Fox. Work is where we need to work on discipline the most. But you know, I do think I'll buy a small paddle to keep in my desk, you'll need to keep your brush here. I'll have to remember to put that on my list."

"Li . . .list, sir?"

"Yes, I need to do a little shopping Monday after work. Mrs. Parsons is most anxious to sit for you again."

"No! I mean, can't I go with you?"

"Hum . . .well that might be a good idea actually. They do like to see the bottom an implement will be used on before they recommend anything. They even have some very nice 'fitting' rooms available."

"Shit! Who the hell is 'they'? Maybe I should just stay here after all."

"I'll think about it. Now stop distracting me so I can finish your punishment."

The hairbrush cracked down on the other thigh, and that leg performed its own kicking demonstration, while it's owner howled in distress.

"Can I assume sugar boy, that you will be eating your dinner without argument tonight?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good. Now I'm going to give you a good, old-fashioned bare hand spanking for being unarmed last night and putting you life in danger. This is going to hurt Fox, it's meant to. I want you to learn two things from this experience. You are not to take careless risks with your safety anymore and that I am now in charge."

If Mulder thought Skinner's hand would hurt less than the hairbrush, he was wrong. The man had a palm as big and hard as any paddle. From the first stinging slap, the agent found himself just barely holding on to his dignity.

Skinner spanked in threes. Three burning slaps to one tender spot and then move on to find another equally vulnerable area. He covered every inch of exposed skin, from the top of the hips to the middle of the thighs. Then he went over the flayed terrain again. On the third circuit his stubborn agent finally broke into sobs, begging him to stop. That's when the real spanking began.

By the time he finally finished, Special Agent Fox Mulder was a crying mess across the knees of his direct supervisor, his once white bottom now glowing scarlet, red-hot and too sore to even touch. At this point, the rogue agent was ready to follow any order he was given just to avoid another slap to his bare, scorched butt.

Skinner laid a hand on the hot skin, ignoring the agent's whimper at the renewed pain this action caused. "I should have done this six years ago. That time you left your wire-tap assignment and went to Puerto Rico to chase aliens. Do you remember?"

He waited until the dark head hanging almost to the floor nodded miserably.

"I wanted to do this then." He rubbed his hand gently over the hot bottom still over his knees, delighted with the heat coming off the scalded skin. "I had to really fight the urge when that smoking bastard left my office not to pull you over my knees and make sure you couldn't sit down for a month. I was that frightened for you. Now, I wish I had. Could have saved us all a lot of trouble."

He patted the hot skin again, earning another pained gasp. "Well, at least we're on the right track now. Into the corner with you. I have some preparations to make in the bedroom."

"Yes sir."

Mulder scrambled to his feet, immediately putting his hands back to try to rub some of the awful sting out of his abused backside.

"Stop that, Fox! I worked too hard on that butt to not have you enjoy the full effects of my efforts for a while. Put your hands on your head and leave them there. I know you feel like you're burning up at the moment but that's exactly what I want. It'll keep your mind focused on the lessons we've talked about today. Now, get in that corner and stay there!"

Mulder bolted for the corner, shiny red bottom on full and glorious display.



Skinner looked down at the beautiful man he had again tied spread-eagled to his bed. Once again, Mulder hadn't fought him all that hard. Had instead, tried to talk to him in that whisky-smooth, black-satin voice he used when calming psychos or consoling unwitting participants in secret government science projects. Skinner had just about had enough of that Oxford psycho-babble directed at him, even if it was coming from a pair of extremely luscious lips.

"Not one more word sweetheart, or I'm going to have to gag you."

Mulder clamped his mouth shut, eyeing his boss with a strange combination of fear and anticipation. Skinner smiled down at him, lowering himself until his lips met those of his love. Mulder immediately tensed. Skinner continued the deep, passionate kiss until finally he felt Fox relax enough to accept what was happening. Not participating, not yet, but letting himself ease enough to fully experience such a strange new sensation.

The AD leaned up a little, receiving a couple of slow, confused blinks from dazed hazel eyes. "You are so beautiful, baby."

He got a hard swallow and a slight blush for that comment. Smiling even more widely, Skinner straightened back up and resumed his preparations.

"What . . .what are you going to do to me, sir?"

Mulder quickly closed his eyes as Skinner turned and started to remove his own clothing. He waited a few seconds, then couldn't resist the temptation to open at least one eye. He was amazed at the wide expanse of beautifully sculpted bone and muscle that made up Skinner's body. The man could be a statue in some museum. Mulder suddenly felt a hot wave of insecurity about his own less developed body.

Skinner smiled at him fondly. "You needn't worry, sugar boy. Your body is perfect. You're beautiful and perfect, sweetheart, never doubt it."

Mulder gapped at him. Skinner was reading minds now? Government experimentation? Latent psychic abilities? Shape Shifting Alien? Shit!

Skinner came over and sat down on the bed, rubbing a gentle hand over his agent's chest, sandpaper palms on sensitive nipples. "Stop thinking so hard, sugar boy. I'm none of those things. I'm just a man who knows you very well and loves you even more. Now to answer your question, this afternoon I'm going to get you used to my touch."

"Ho . . .ho . . .how?"

"Well first," Skinner pulled out a long, fluffy feather. Its' long frayed ends swaying in the almost non-existent air currents in the room. "I'm not going to touch you at all."

His agent eyed him fearfully as he brought the end of the luxuriant feather down to caress the rosy nipples, now standing at attention on Mulder's chest. The AD moved the feather, first just the wispy ends of the feather making contact, then with just a little more pressure, the stiffer center of the feather coming to bear on the tormented nipples.

Mulder was nearly ready to come out of his skin, a find sheen of perspiration coating his body. The feather covered every inch of his helplessly exposed skin. From the tip of his toes, to what lay between his widely spread legs, to the overly-sensitive areas of lips, ears and throat. Mulder was slowly but surely coming unwound right before a fascinated Skinner's eager eyes.

The feather moved again. Across the washboard abs, down a long slender thigh. A few quick, agonizing swishes high up on the inside of those thighs, just barely touching the agent's testicular sack. Mulder moaned from deep in his chest, evidently all resistance having fled in the wake of the feather's persistent attack on his bare and shredded nerve endings.

The instrument of torture moved again. This time just barely curling itself around the very tip of the straining cockhead. Circling it again and again, barely there but yet impossible to ignore. Mulder bucked and arched his back into the soft and maddening caress. He started a campaign of desperate pleading., punctuated by little imploring whimpers. It was all too much, but then not nearly enough.

"Please. Please."

"Please what, sweetheart? What is it you want?"

"I need more! Please! I need to come!"

"Do you want me to make you come, Fox?" Skinner never stopped his wondering hand, the feather leaving a peculiar track of gooseflesh and perspiration in it's relentless wake.

"Yes! Yes, please."

"But I'm your boss, sweetheart. And the Consortium might find out. And I was once a marine."

"I DON'T CARE!"

"And neither do I, sweet boy." Skinner smiled as he reached for a tube of lube, coating his fingers liberally. Mulder gasped in shock as a strong, warm, hand grabbed his fevered cock, stroking it with a smooth, practiced grip. He was aware, but not overly concerned when a slick blunt fingers circled his most private opening, then gently worked it's way inside him.

It felt invasive, and foreign, and. . . completely wonderful.

As the talented hand worked his cock, the equally gifted fingers worked him from the inside out. The overly stimulated agent didn't have a chance. He screamed so hard as he came, that Skinner was sure that his yuppy neighbors would be pounding on his door in just a few minutes, demanding to know what animal he was torturing in his apartment. He might just have to tell them it was a wild and beautiful fox. Caught in his snare, fighting its captivity but not untamable. Not in the least.

Skinner cleaned them both up, released Mulder's wrists and ankles from the bed posts, and then lay down, pulling his insensate lover into his big, protective arms.

"Me again," Mulder said sleepily. "I should do something for you but I . . ."

"You are doing something for me, sweetheart. You're here with me. You're letting me hold you and love you. Don't worry, everything will come together in time. One day you'll know exactly what to do to please me. I can be a very patient man."

"Not that I ever saw."

"You just didn't know how to look."



Tony sat cross-legged on the end of the bed watching as Skinner looked down adoringly at the man who now slept peacefully in his arms.

You know, grouchy bear, I've been thinking.

"Go away."

You don't mean that.

"Yes, I do. I can handle this by myself now."

Yeah, sure you can!" Tony snorted. "Enough with the self-delusion, grouchy bear. It's adorable but I have something important that I need to talk to you about.

"I don't want to hear it! I'm tired, I want to go to sleep. Haven't you caused me enough trouble for one day?"

One eyebrow rose on the ghost's perfect face. Have I? Think you can get that boy's body any closer to your chest without completely shutting off his air supply? If you ask me, I've caused you anything _but_ trouble today, bear.

"Well maybe," The AD shot him an obstinate look, "but you made me spank him awfully hard earlier."

He deserved it, wanted it, needed it - all of the above. And you wanted to do it. And besides, he'll think today was a walk in the park the first time you take a strap to his gorgeous but truly deserving ass. Now are you going to help me or not?

Skinner sighed heavily, pulling Mulder a little further into his arms. "Okay, what do you want?"

I want you to help me find my murderer.

The End Chapter 1